The Lucky Doberman

Chapter 1: the Journey for a Job

"Hi," I greeted.
"Hi," replied the clerk.
"I saw your sign on the window. Are you still hiring?"
"Yes, actually. Would you like an application?"
"Yes, please."

She went under the counter and took out two stapled sheets of paper.

"Here you go. If you want you can fill it out over there. Would you like a coffee or water while you do?" She handed me the paper and a pen.
"Yea, sure. Can I get a vanilla latte?" It was cold outside. I needed something warm.
"Of course."

She typed her necessary buttons as I waited then I handed her my card.

"I'll have that right out to you. You can take a seat."
"Thank you so much," I smiled as she handed me my card back and the receipt that came with it.

I went to a table next to one of the large windows and started looking over the application.

Name: Zoe Ricci
Date: March 25th
My email.
My phone number.
Address.

I read the list of things I could apply for after it asked which one I'd prefer working as.

The woman from the register came over and placed my latte next to me.
"Thank you so much," I smiled.
"Sure, no problem." She smiled back then returned to her station.
I took a sip as I read.

'Barista and cashier'
Those were the only two that mattered to me. The rest I didn't think I was qualified for.

The work day is about 6 and a half hours or can be changed to 12 if I wanted.
I don't see why I'd want that.
The pay seemed fair. Around $24 an hour.

I started mentioning my experience.

I worked at a smoothie shop when I was 18. A shoe store when I was 20. And I'd just left a nursing home because I couldn't handle the elderly's...very strong and very old beliefs.

I wrote down all of my skills.

It was a pretty simple application.
I finished soon and returned it to the girl at the counter.

"Finished?" she asked.
"I am."
"Perfect, I'll hand it to my manager when they get here."
"Thank you so much. Have a good day." I smiled.
"You too!"

I left with my latte in hand and went on my phone to look for more applications. It was all I'd spend today doing. I decided to return back to my car and drive around to find other places that may have a hiring sign in their window.
I scrolled and scrolled past the jobs I wasn't interested in or the ones I'd already applied for.

There was another that called for an assistant.

I reached my car and opened my door as I clicked on it.

Someone ran into it.

A guy on a bike fell down.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" I told him and saw the purse next to him as I bent down to see if he was okay.

Some lady ran up. "Thank you so much! He'd stolen my purse and I couldn't catch him! It was like no one heard me when I yelled for help."
I looked back down at the guy who was groaning and squirming on the ground with his hands covering his face.
I grabbed her purse and handed it to her. "Glad I could help."
"Yes, thank you so so much." She smiled.
"Not a problem." I smiled back. Mostly because it was sheer luck.

I watched her go into her purse and she pulled out twenty bucks then handed it to me.

"Oh, please, no. I couldn't," I stated.
"No, please take it. You're the only person to help for two blocks," she replied.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive."
I took it. "Wow, thank you."
"No, thank you." She waved and walked off.

I looked at the money in my hand.
What're the odds?
This felt like a movie.

I hopped into my car then closed and locked the door just in case that guy was upset when he got up.

I continued looking at the assistant ad.

"A HUNDRED DOLLARS AN HOUR?!" I exclaimed.

The description said I'd just be following around my boss and doing whatever they asked of me. Which I figured was what an assistant does anyway.

I kept scrolling.
The hours weren't mentioned but I assumed they'd cover that in the interview or the application itself later.

I could see comments under it.

People were saying it sounded too good to be true. They thought it was sketchy and strange. Especially because who you'd be working for wasn't listed.

But all I could think about was the money.
Maybe it's a celebrity and they didn't want too many people to know.
This is Las Vegas. We get celebrities here often.

I clicked on it and all the application asked for was my number.
That was strange.
No name column.
No date.
No background check.
They didn't even ask if I'd ever been arrested.
It was just a box for my phone number.

I typed it in anyway.
I'm sure I should be more careful about these kinds of things, but...money?

I scrolled just to see if I was maybe missing something. But that was all there was on the page. Along with the 'apply' button.

I clicked it.

Now all I could do was wonder what came next.

I flinched when a hand pressed against my window.
It was the bike rider finally beginning to stand up. He didn't want anything. He just used my car as balance.
He hopped onto his transportation then rode off.

I sipped my latte then continued looking through other job offers.

But my phone began to ring.

No caller ID.

I answered.

"Hello?" I greeted nervously.
"Hi." It was a woman's voice. "You applied for the assistant job, correct?"
That was fast?
"Yes. I did."
"You have an interview tomorrow."
"Already? That was pretty soon. I'd only just applied like two minutes ago."
"Do you not want it?"
"No, I want it! I just didn't expect to be replied to so quickly. Usually it takes a few days."
"We don't have a few days to spare."
"Right..."
"Your interview is tomorrow. At 8pm. Do not be tardy. They do not take lightly to tardiness," she pressed.
"Understood."
"Have a good day."
"Wait who will I-..."

She hung up.

I don't even know who the interview is with.
She didn't say 'I' or 'me' so I could only assume it wasn't with her. Was she a receptionist possibly? She also didn't say 'she' or 'he'. She just said 'they'. Either she doesn't know who I'm being interviewed by, it's a group of people, or she wasn't allowed to tell me.
It has to be a celebrity.
There's no way it isn't.

I turned on my car then drove out of its spot.

I guess that meant I could put a pause in my search for hiring companies.

I know the entire thing was inherently sketchy, but...I didn't feel worried. I didn't feel scared. I didn't even feel the slightest bit of concern. I'll take that as a sign. This should be good for me.
Money.